


Let the Fireflies Dance and Watch Them Burn

by burymeinziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, End of the World, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: The one where it's the end of the world and Liam runs away from home, Harry's heart is too big, and Zayn just wants to be happy.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 6





	Let the Fireflies Dance and Watch Them Burn

**TUESDAY**

There’s a boy sitting on top of an old suitcase a few hundred feet ahead down the road. He’s not doing much; just sitting. The only reason it’s the least bit peculiar now is because most people are either panicking alone, at home where they are more or less safe behind closed doors or trying to find a way out of town in some lame attempt at having an exciting last few days. It’s not like leaving town will change much or help the situation at hand, Zayn knows this, it just makes him feel like he’s making some sort of effort instead of sulking at waiting for an inevitable end. 

If Harry had been in the seat next to him, Zayn might have made a joke about hitchhikers and that time Harry had picked up those kids off the side of the road at two in the morning before taking them to McDonald's and dropping them off downtown at what could have passed as a crack house. Zayn might have asked Harry if he felt like picking up this poor bum as well, maybe see where he was going or offer him a ride to California with them. If Harry had been in the seat next to him Zayn might have said a lot of things, more than he can count, but he isn’t. Harry is gone and Zayn can’t say anything to him ever again so he just keeps his mouth shut. 

They say that talking to people after they’ve gone can be healthy. That it provides some type of catharsis. That it’s, in a sense, therapeutic in some way. They say speaking to the dead can keep the loneliness at bay, but all it does for Zayn is remind him of someone who isn’t there and won’t ever be there again. Besides, even if Zayn wanted to talk, it isn’t like Harry would be able to hear him. Heaven or hell, ghost or gone, Zayn is almost certain that his voice probably wouldn’t carry. 

Inching down the road, Zayn couldn’t be doing more than five miles per hour in a sixty-mile zone. He knows he should be moving a lot faster, but Zayn can’t help but wonder if pulling over would be a good idea. Harry would have. He would have told Zayn it was their good deed for the day or make the argument of how everyone deserves help and “really, Zayn, no one should be alone at a time like this.” 

Zayn looks to the passenger’s seat and thinks that he might not want a new body taking up that space. But it’s Tuesday and Zayn’s car is starting to feel a little bit lonely and the radio can only keep him company for so long. Not to mention the fact that he only has about four days left. 

So… 

“Fuck it,” Zayn mumbles under his breath as he presses his foot down on the gas, speeding up until he’s coming to a stop just in front of the hitchhiker and his suitcase. When Zayn rolls down his window, the boy is already looking right back at him. His eyes are fearful, but a little bit curious and wider this pretty shade of brown that Zayn hadn’t quite been expecting. 

“Hello.” 

Zayn thinks he should probably say something more, maybe try to explain himself, but he can’t think of any other words aside from “hello” and it isn’t like he owes this stranger anything so Zayn decides to leave it at that. 

The other boy blinks and shifts his weight on the suitcase. “Hey?"

Silence. Zayn wonders if there is some sort of protocol for this. Does he present his ID and share his entire life story in order to convince this kid that he isn’t some sort of creep looking to pick him off the side of the road? Maybe chop him up into tiny pieces only to dump him off in a ditch somewhere? Harry would have known. Harry would have smiled and asked the guy how he was doing. He would have asked about the weather or the lack of cars on the road before mentioning California and the ocean. “ _Hey, you look lonely,_ ” Harry would have said. “ _Why don’t you hop in? Come with us._ ” And even though it would have been a strange offer and probably not the best idea to hop into a car with two strangers, Harry would have been nice and charming and this kid sitting in front of Zayn wouldn’t be able to feel anything other than safe and welcome as he climbed into the backseat of the car. 

“I’m… I’m Zayn.” 

That’s all he can really manage, really. As much as Zayn wishes he had all the charisma and charm Harry had, he doesn’t and he never will. Zayn is quiet and nervous and sad and his name is all he really has right now. 

“Liam.” 

The name fits as soon as it leaves the other boy’s lips. Zayn thinks the name belongs to someone who is clean and smart and nice. Someone who has a fair amount of friends and a family who loves the hell out of him. Liam gets good grades, not the exceptional or remarkable kind, but they’re decent and they make his parents proud. Liam probably has a pretty girlfriend who loves him and he loves her too. They’ve been dating since middle school and she may or may not have been planning to lose her virginity on prom night. Next year would have been graduation and Liam and his girlfriend got into the same school. They’d spend college together and Liam would propose and she would cry. There would be a beautiful wedding and children and a cozy house somewhere in the suburbs with a dog and a white picket fence. Happy. 

Zayn isn’t sure if he’s right, but he can see it. He looks at Liam and, even though he’s a little roughed up and sitting on a suitcase along the side of an empty road in the middle of nowhere, he looks kind. The Liam in Zayn’s mind is kind and, somehow, he thinks the name fits. 

“I uh… you want a ride?” 

It’s a simple yes or no question that requires a simple yes or no answer, but it feels like more. Maybe it’s because Liam is the first face Zayn has seen since Harry left and Zayn’s is the first Liam has seen since he left home. Maybe it's because they’re both lonely and this is probably the only real opportunity they’re going to get at company before it all goes to shit. It could be anything, but it’s not as if the “why” matters all that much anyway. It only matters that the question is out there and Zayn is waiting on an answer. 

Liam looks to his left, then to his right, and sees nothing but wide-open space. He’d starve before the world had a chance to kill him. He stands up, brushes some dust from his pants, and takes hold of the handle on his suitcase. 

“Yeah,” Liam says. “Thanks.” 

Zayn nods, unlocks the door, and pops the trunk for Liam’s suitcase. A few moments later, there’s someone in the passenger’s seat for the first time since Harry and Zayn’s heart sinks a little in his chest. The silence feels loud and thick and Zayn knows he should say something, but he can’t find the words. He thinks Harry might have asked where Liam came from, where he was going, or what he was going to do when he got there. Harry would have had interesting things to tack onto whatever Liam had to say and they all would have laughed and perhaps even joke around a little like they were old friends. All of that would have been completely possible because Harry was just that easy to talk to. 

All Zayn can do is press his foot on the gas just to give himself something to do. 

What would Harry do, though? That always seems to be the question. Zayn never seems to know what to do because Harry had always had the answers. He was always there. But now he isn’t and Zayn is stuck with a few days left driving aimlessly, no real direction in mind because California feels like too much. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” Liam says now, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could have sat there for.” 

Zayn is thankful for the attempt but hates the way he seems to have forgotten the back and forth of conversation “Sure,” Zayn replies. “How long were you there for?” 

“Since last night.” There’s a pause. A shrug of Liam’s shoulders. “I guess. Depending on how you look at it.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zayn asks, taking a quick glance towards Liam and hating the obvious intrigue in his voice. 

“I was… I left home with a few friends, you know? Everyone is doing it now and staying back at the house never really felt like an option anyway. I guess we just… we were on the road for a few days, just driving around. I don’t think there was ever even a plan, really. But they ended up missing home. Or maybe they were scared or something?” Liam draws in a deep breath, tries on a smile that Zayn can tell is forced. “They went back. They didn’t just leave me behind though. They tried to get me to go with them, but I… there’s nothing there for me anymore. They finally left around four this morning.” 

Zayn looks down at the time displayed on the radio. It was close to five in the afternoon. The car falls silent aside from the low hum of the static of AM radio and the sound of the car rolling along the empty road. Zayn has a multitude of questions, most of which feel too intrusive and personal. But then Zayn wonders if that really even matters with only four days left. 

“What’s so wrong with home that you wouldn’t want to go back? Spend the end of the world with your friends and family?” 

“I don’t even know if you could call them that,” Liam says with a dry laugh “It was a foster home. Nobody cares. No one is family. There were the guys I ran off with, but… It’s not the same. It’s not family. Maybe that’s harsh, but it’s true. They’re just people that are there until they aren’t anymore.” 

All at once, the image Zayn had drawn up in his mind fades away and Liam isn’t the boy with the good grades and the nice parents and the pretty girlfriend. He never had a chance at the wife and the family or the nice house in the suburbs. Suddenly, Liam is just a boy. 

Zayn thinks it's sad. Harry might have called it beautiful. 

“I’m going to California,” Zayn says it without thinking, but once the words are out it feels right. 

Liam smiles and this time Zayn knows it’s honest. He might even call it a little bit pretty. 

“Sounds good.” 

**THE BOY WITH ROSE COLORED GLASSES**

There was never a time when Harry wasn’t there. At least not a time that it mattered. 

Harry had been around for as long as Zayn could remember. He knows there were years when it was just him and his parents and his sisters but, as terrible as it may seem, that never really mattered. Harry was Zayn’s best friend; his constant. He gave everything a purpose when the world felt chaotic and too much to deal with. 

“You’ve gotta smell the roses,” Harry would say. “Quit worrying about the next time you have to water them and how you need to make sure to clip the thorns or trim the hedges or whatever it is gardeners do to rose bushes. Don’t worry about that.” And Harry would smile and Zayn’s world would start to calm. “Just smell the roses and appreciate how beautiful they are right now.” 

Harry was alive and present when Zayn was quiet and observant. Zayn tended to linger along the sidelines watching everyone experience the world around him. It was almost as though he was afraid of what would happen if he were to join in. Perhaps he was. Zayn overthought everything. Every word that left his mouth was calculated and precise. He never wanted to say the wrong thing or to express himself in a way that wasn’t 100% acceptable in every sense of the word. 

And maybe that was why he needed Harry. While Zayn pushed himself to the side, Harry was at the epicenter of everything. Harry laughed too much and too loud. He lived and he loved. Harry never thought about what he was going to say or do next. He simply spoke and he went and he loved every second of it. Harry talked to strangers at the supermarket and learned to dance with street performers. He never followed a map and stumbled upon restaurants downtown and tried food from all over the world. 

Harry smelled the roses while Zayn trimmed the hedges. And it was fine because Zayn sort of loved watching Harry move through life. He felt like he was living with Harry looked at him with eyes just for Zayn and pulled him in and allowed them to live life together. Even if only for a moment. 

And then it was suddenly all over the news. There were two weeks left and people were freaking out and trying to do everything they never got around to because the world was ending and there were only two weeks left. 

“We should go to California,” Harry had said while a news reporter spoke about a robbery at a bank in a nearby city. Why steal the money, Zayn wondered, when there wasn’t even enough time to spend it? 

“California?” Zayn askes because Harry couldn’t possibly be serious. This had to have been him talking like he always did about all of the things he could be doing and wants to do before he dies. California had to have been one of them. 

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Watch the sunrise at the beach on the last day.” 

It’s the way Harry had said it that made Zayn look up at him the way he did. Normally, Zayn would have just rolled his eyes and laugh in that way Harry used to describe as dry and playful and maybe just a tad bit condescending, “but not in a way that really mattered.” But this time was different. Harry said this like he was serious. Like it meant something to him and he needed Zayn to do this with him. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Harry told him. “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy.” 

Zayn shakes his head. “I’m not.” 

“But you are, Z. You’ve got that look like I’m saying something totally nuts. ‘ _you’ve gotta be fucking me, Haz. You can’t be serious.’_ ” 

Zayn didn’t answer because, while he may not have meant to, he probably had been. 

“But I am,” Harry continued. “I want to go to California and spend time on the beach and watch the sunrise on the last day. I want to do that with you.” 

At that moment, Zayn felt as though his heart could have burst right through his chest and he thought that might have been how Harry felt all the time. It made him wonder how Harry dealt with such discomfort because Zayn’s chest felt tight and a few sizes too small. Zayn couldn’t imagine leaving his family at a time like that so he could drive across the country with his best friend to watch the sunrise. But this was Harry. And Harry was family too. He was Zayn’s best friend and Zayn knew, deep down, he would honestly do anything. 

“Why?” Zayn asked. “Why California? Why do we need to be on the beach to watch a sunrise when we can do it from right here?” 

Zayn’s tone is just as condescending as it had been when laughed only now it was on purpose. It doesn’t matter though, because he and Harry both know that it was all just for show and Zayn had basically already said yes. But Harry smiles in that way he saved just for Zayn and answered his question anyway. 

“Because,” he said. “You’re my best friend and I want you to smell the roses.” 

**WEDNESDAY**

When Zayn gets too tired to drive they stop off the side of the road. Liam says something about being able to take over, but upon seeing Zayn’s reaction to the offer decides a few hours of rest wouldn't hurt. It’s not that Zayn doesn’t trust Liam to drive so much as it is the fact that the car had belonged to Harry and it felt wrong to give the keys to someone else. 

It’s light out when Zayn cracks an eye open. Liam is still in the passenger’s seat resting his head against the window and using an old hoodie he’d fished out of his bag as a pillow. It’s Wednesday so that gives them three more days to make it to California before the clock runs out. 

He doesn’t bother with waking Liam up because there really isn’t a point and Zayn isn’t sure if they’ve reached that point yet. The idea only promises awkward silences or slightly forced conversation and Zayn isn’t really in the mood. He’d much rather listen to one of Harry’s old Cds on low and think about what he’ll do first when they reach the coast. 

The obvious answer would be the beach since that is what Harry had wanted. It’s just that Zayn feels strange heading there first without him. He knows he’s going to go because sitting in the sand and watching the sun on the last day was exactly why Harry had wanted to go with him. To smell the roses. It’s just the thought of it, of doing it without Harry, that makes Zayn’s soul feel heavy. Not to mention lonely. 

“We on the road again?” Liam asks sleepily from the other side of the car. 

Zayn nods. “Yeah. Somewhere in Kansas, I think.” 

“Kansas,” Liam says thoughtfully. “There’s no place like home…” 

When Zayn glances over, Liam is smiling a little, and even though the joke is terrible Zayn can’t help but smile back. 

Liam shifts in his seat, tossing his makeshift pillow to his feet before turning back to look at Zayn. “So,” he begins. “I told you where I’m from. What about you? What’s your story?” 

Zayn shrugs and tightens his grip on the wheel. “Vermont,” he says. “Not much more other than that.” 

Liam eyes Zayn curiously, probably trying to figure out if it’s smart to press any. further or if he should just leave it alone. “You leave by yourself?” 

Zayn shakes his head, swallows. “No.” 

Liam furrows his brow. “Then where’s your friend?” 

“Dead.” Zayn’s voice is flat, his knuckles are starting to turn white. His heart feels like it's swelling and he can’t help but think about Harry because everything suddenly feels a little too big. 

It’s quiet for a moment. Then two. Then three. Then four. The silence is only broken when Liam clears his throat and chokes out a strained “sorry” so quietly that Zayn is almost certain that he’s hearing things. 

“It’s not your fault,” Zayn mumbles, reaching out to turn up the volume on the radio. “Shit happens.” 

**TO LOVE AND BE LOVED**

They said his heart was too big.

“Heart defect,” Harry told him, looking down at where his hand was resting over his chest. He laughed, looked back toward Zayn. “Guess I wasn’t born with the right stuff.”

He’d said it with a shrug of his shoulders; like it wasn’t a big deal – like it didn’t matter – but Zayn could look in his eyes and tell that Harry was scared.

Zayn had known Harry for years, for as long as he could remember, and he’d thought they told each other everything. But Harry had kept this part secret. He didn’t say anything about it and the only reason he was opening his mouth now was because he’d been experiencing fainting spells for the past few weeks and he could tell that Zayn was beginning to worry.

"I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” Harry told him when Zayn’s silence was becoming too apparent. “My parents already treat me like I’m fragile. And then there’s my teachers and the doctors and the rest of my family, too. They look at me and their eyes are always so sad and helpless. I just... I know you wouldn’t do it on purpose, but I didn’t want you to pity me too.”

“I wouldn’t,” Zayn told him, and he really thought he meant it too.

“But you are,” Harry said, his eyes were soft and sad. “The way you’re looking at me? You’re trying not to, but you’re doing it right now.”

Thinking back, it kind of made sense that Harry’s heart was too big. Zayn thinks it grew because Harry loved too much. He wanted to kiss and hug every person he met and tell them they were beautiful. Harry felt everything on such an intense level; he loved everyone so much. Zayn thinks he tried, it made room for as much as it could but, in the end, his heart just couldn’t take it.

Two weeks after that Harry had mentioned California and Zayn knows that he was right.

Harry’s heart was too big because he cared so much, and he’d loved Zayn the most. If Zayn had been a little stronger, if he’d lived life a little fuller, Harry wouldn’t have needed to care and worry and make so much room for him. His heart would have had a little extra space to grow and he might have made it to California to see the end of the world.

Thinking about it now, maybe it was just that Harry loved too much and Zayn didn’t love quite enough.

**THURSDAY**

“His name was Harry,” Zayn tells him. “He was nice.”

They’re sitting in a park eating turkey and cheese sandwiches they’d lifted from a market a few miles off the freeway. Zayn is picking at the crusts when he says it and doesn’t look at Liam once the words leave his mouth. Things have been tense since he’d broken the news about his dead friend and Liam has been tiptoeing around Zayn’s feelings since he’s been so quiet and hard to read.

“Your friend?” Liam asks.

Zayn nods. “Yeah. He was more than that, though.”

Liam cocks his head to the side. “You loved him?”

It’s just a question. Liam doesn’t ask it like he cares or like he’s judging. It’s pure curiosity because it would only make sense that Zayn loved him.

“No.” Zayn drops his sandwich to the grown without much concern when it comes to the crumbs on his jeans. He watches the sandwich disassemble, the leftover turkey and cheese scattered across the grass. “Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t really matter now.”

The thing is Zayn has never been sure when it came to Harry. There’s never been a doubt in his mind about whether he loved him. When he was alive, Harry was all there was. Things had just never been _like that_ , and Zayn wasn’t sure if they could have been. If, given the opportunity, if they would have taken that chance. 

There had been times when Zayn would look at Harry and think it was a possibility, that maybe it was only a matter of time before they took that extra step. But then there were others when Zayn would see him, and Harry was just who he was: a beautiful boy who loved and experienced the world around him and, for whatever reason, wanted to take Zayn along with him.

Harry and Zayn were just what they were. There had never been words to describe it, not really, and Zayn doesn’t think there ever would be. 

“He must have been special,” Liam says. He takes another bite from his sandwich and looks ahead into the wide-open space in front of them.

Zayn’s smile is soft and sad and barely-there as he huffs out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yeah,” he answers quietly. “He was.”

**+**

Things are easier after that. They don’t talk any more about Harry. Partly because Liam doesn’t want to press and partly because Zayn thinks some things are best kept to himself. It’s not that Zayn minds talking about Harry and sharing bits of him with Liam because Zayn thinks the whole world should have known who Harry was and just how special he was. It’s just that part of him wants to keep Harry safe and close and that selfish part of him wins over because there are only a few days left and when Zayn watches the sunrise, he wants it to be him and Harry – wherever he may be. 

In the meantime, Liam is good. He’s funny and he’s kind. He has this way about him, this languidness that sort of guides him through life. Liam enjoys things and he feels them. He has this sense of freedom about him that almost reminds Zayn of Harry. The way Liam will look out the window and see a bird and follow it through the sky until he can’t see it anymore. 

(“ _I want to go where that bird is going,_ ” Harry would have said. “ _Wherever it goes, I want to see the world through its eyes._ ”) 

Liam speaks freely and he doesn’t hold things back. He jokes and he sings and he acts as though the world isn’t ending in a little less than 72 hours. 

And Zayn likes that. He thinks it could be exactly what he needs.

**+**

“How do you think it will end?” Liam asks.

“I don’t know,” Zayn answers. It feels like a cop-out, but it’s honest and truthful. He’d been watching the news up until he and Harry had left home, and they’d only ever spoken of a date. There were theories about a mass of natural disasters or meteor showers, but nothing concrete. There was just a date. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“No ideas?” Liam presses with raised brows as Zayn follows the curve of the road. 

Zayn shrugs. “Not really. I don’t think it really matters. I’d prefer for it not to be painful, but I don’t think the way we go is all that important. I think the biggest part of it is that we’re going at all.” 

It’s sort of like a revelation. Like it's finally setting in and they’re both realizing that in less than 48 hours there’s a very real possibility that they won’t be here anymore. Death is no longer this far off, abstract notion living somewhere in the future. Death is here and now and it’s coming and there’s not much they can do about it. 

“Can I say something?” Liam asks. 

And Zayn says “sure.” 

He’s not really looking at Liam when he’s asking, just tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. It’s kind of depressing how close he is to the end and how alone he feels when he takes the time to think about it. Zayn knows Liam is there, but it’s not the same. They don’t know each other. They’re practically strangers and they’re going to die together. 

And then Liam says, “I’m glad I’m with you.” 

Zayn can feel his heart speed up the minute the words leave Liam’s mouth. 

_I’m glad I’m with you._

It’s almost like his heart is about to swell and burst right out of his chest. Zayn thinks this might have been the way Harry had felt right before he left and that makes it hurt a little bit more. And then there’s the part where Zayn has this itching, aching feeling that Harry would have liked Liam too. He probably would have wanted Liam here with them, to be their friend, and that makes Zayn feel as though he isn’t even trying. Zayn feels that he’s just been standing around this whole time, counting down the days and trimming the hedges and holding onto a boy who is no longer here when he should have been smelling the roses. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam says quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you or anything I just... I’m glad I’m not alone. I think... I don’t know, I just think that this could be good, you know? Reaching the end with someone new. It’s kind of like starting over.” 

Zayn takes a moment to look away from the road in favor of catching Liam’s eyes. They’re open and a little bit scared because Liam must be feeling so vulnerable opening himself up the way he is in the hopes that Zayn might be brave enough to do the same. 

And Zayn thinks that he might be. Liam could be right. The world might be ending, but this could also be his chance to start over and do things right. It’s what Harry would have wanted. It’s Zayn’s chance to stop and smell the roses. 

So Zayn smiles and, for the first time in what feels like forever, this one feels genuine. “Yeah,” he says. “I think you might be right.” 

**HEART FAILURE**

They were at dinner when it happened. 

It was quick and Zayn hardly remembers it happening at all, he just knows that it did. One minute he and Harry were talking and laughing about a math teacher they had a few years back and the next Harry was falling over in his seat, his hands pressed tight against his chest, and Zayn was calling for help and trying to get Harry to breathe— “ _Please, Harry, breathe._ ” 

And then nothing. 

He was just gone. 

Cardiac Arrest. Sudden Death. 

Zayn lied at the hospital and said they were brothers. He didn’t have ID because he didn’t think he needed it considering the world was going to be over in a few weeks and they were going to watch the sunrise and nothing was supposed to go wrong because the world was ending, and everything was shit already anyways. 

It was such bullshit. 

They were supposed to go together. Harry was a good person, and he should have been able to make it and they were supposed to make it together. They should have at least gotten that. Harry deserved that. He deserved better. 

But instead, he died in some shit hold finer in the middle of nowhere and Zayn had to leave him behind to rot away in some morgue in a city Zayn can’t even remember the name of. 

Instead, Zayn is alone and wandering without a clue because Harry had all the good ideas. 

Zayn remembers Harry laughing in the car a little after they’d left. “ _Guess it’s good the world is ending, right?_ ” He’d said. “ _I’ll get to go out in style instead of having this stupid heart of mine put me in the ground._ ” 

Thinking back on it, all Zayn can do is laugh because it’s so stupid and ironic and Harry had always known – of course he’d known – because Harry knew everything. Zayn knows he had to have been joking in the car but, on some level, Harry must have felt it. 

And maybe that had been the plan the entire time. Maybe Harry just knew something was going to happen and he wanted Zayn to go because there was only so much time left. Harry had given Zayn the push to get in the car and drive so he would have no other choice but to see it through. 

And almost makes things hurt a little more because, even after death, Harry is still loving to much and his heart is still too big and it’s swelling and bursting and breaking because he did this for Zayn. He had faith and he loved Zayn enough to make him do it. 

So he would. 

**FRIDAY**

They get to California and neither Zayn nor Liam think they’ve seen anything more beautiful. It’s not the way it’s pictured in magazines and pictures, but there’s sunshine and palm trees and the sky is clear and open. 

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Liam says. 

Zayn smiles as he pulls into a parking lot a few yards away from the beach. “Well, technically we are.” 

Liam turns to Zayn and smiles back. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

They spend the day wandering the boardwalk and peeking into shops and pretending like they have all the time in the world. They eat hot dogs and drink smoothies and watch the street performers. It’s almost like they’re on vacation a few thousand miles from home and not wandering around the beach waiting for the world to end. 

Throughout the day Zayn finds himself looking at Liam and wondering what would have happened if they’d met under different circumstances. He wonders if they would have been friends, or maybe even more than that. Zayn looks at Liam and admires the way he laughs and claps his hands as a guy gets his dog to do tricks on a skateboard. Zayn thinks he’s absolutely beautiful and wonders if Liam would say the same about him. 

At night, they lie on the hood of Harry’s car and look at the stars. The radio is on and they’re listening to a mix CD that Harry had made before he and Zayn had set off for California. “Hey,” Liam says sitting up a little, the blanket and Zayn had been sharing sliding down his legs. “I like this song.” 

It’s this Smashing Pumpkins song that Harry used to love, but Zayn can’t bring himself to remember the name of it. None of that seems to matter though. Not while Liam is humming to himself, mumbling some of the lyrics in between. 

“If you like it so much, you might as well dance.” 

He’s only half-serious, but Liam tosses the blanket off his legs before jumping off the car. And then he’s swinging and swaying to the music, not really following the beat so much as just moving. 

“Dance with me,” Liam says, holding his arms out. 

If he didn’t know any better Zayn would wonder if Liam was a little bit drunk, but he knows they haven’t had anything so he knows this is Liam being silly and a little bit romantic. Zayn shakes his head, mouthing the word no because he doesn’t dance. 

“C’mon,” Liam sings, stepping forward until he’s close enough to take one of Zayn’s hands and pull him to his feet. “It’s the end of the world.” 

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn protests, but Liam smiling and warm and they’re already swaying out of time with the music. 

“ _And if you believe there’s not a chance tonight... tonight so bright,_ ” Liam sings softly, his breath inadvertently trailing over Zayn’s skin. 

They’re close, closer than they’ve ever been, and Zayn can feel Liam’s heartbeat and everything in that moment is so alive. There’s wind and fresh air and the scent of saltwater and sand and Liam is holding him and he reeks of sweat and boy because they haven't had a shower in God only knows how long and it’s beautiful, Zayn thinks, maybe even poetic. 

And Liam keeps singing. 

“ _The indescribable moments of your life tonight. The impossible is possible tonight._ ” 

When the song ends everything goes silent and Zayn thinks that must have been the final track on the CD. He and Liam are still standing though, swaying but not really, and Zayn can feel Liam’s lips moving against his hair when he speaks. 

“The song is over.” 

Zayn’s laugh is soft and breathy, and he can feel when it makes Liam shiver slightly. “Yeah,” he answers. “Are you sad?” 

Liam takes a step back so he can see Zayn properly, but he doesn’t let go of his hands. “No.” 

Zayn isn’t sure if things would have played out differently, if the day would have been less magical, had the end of the world not been looming over their heads. He never believed in God or fate or some predetermined chain of events; things like karma or divine intervention. That stuff had always belonged to Harry. All Zayn knows is that Liam’s lips are warm and slightly chapped because he’d lost his lip balm somewhere in the backseat of Harry’s car. All Zayn can be sure of are Liam’s hands and how comforting they feel as they leave his own and slide up his arms until they find purchase on his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 

Zayn has never really believed in God or fate or karma, but he does believe, when he takes a step back and feels cool air against his lips, he’s looking at the most beautiful boy in the world and he doesn’t care that it’s all coming to an end. 

Zayn is just glad he got the chance to meet him. 

**DON’T WORRY BE HAPPY**

“You know this isn’t only about watching the sunrise,” Harry had said the first night they spent on the road. He was lying back in the passenger’s seat, Zayn curled up with a blanket in the back. 

“Oh?” He answers sleepily. “What’s it about then? Getting out of town? Seeing the country? You have dreams of becoming a movie star?” 

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “C’mon, Z. I’m serious.” 

Zayn sat up a little, looked over at Harry, and found a mess of curls and long limbs a foot or two in front of him. “Okay. If it’s not about the sunrise, then what is it?” 

Harry lolled his head to the side. “Happiness,” He’d said simply. “When you were at home you always looked so trapped and I just... I wanted you to get out. I thought if you could just get out of there and see the world and how beautiful it can be, see all the people living in it... I thought you might have a reason to smile a little more. At least for a little while.” 

“Harry...” Zayn said slowly. It was hard, to put into words, how much that meant. He’d never been sentimental, not really, but Harry had always been special and appreciated and loved and Zayn wasn’t sure how to tell him. 

Harry shook his head, offered Zayn a shy smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything; I know you’re not good at it,” he paused. “You’re my best friend and I figured I could do that for you. I want to do that for you.” 

“I don’t...” Zayn’s throat felt tight with how much was caught there, with how much it meant for Harry to want to do something so big for him. 

“Just be happy,” Harry told him. 

Zayn paused and thought about it for a moment before he smiled and wiped at the tears that were welling up around the corners of his eyes. “I am,” he answered. “I am happy.” 

Harry looked back at Zayn, his smile wide and genuine. “Then stay that way.” 

**SATURDAY**

The sky is a mess of pinks and oranges and blues and yellows in the morning. Zayn and Liam had stayed up the whole night talking about how they would spend their last day, wondering when it would end and how. 

“Meteor shower, "Liam says. “Like with the dinosaurs.” 

“It’s all just going to fade to black,” Zayn counters. “Like in a movie. It’ll just get quiet and fade away.” 

In the end, it’s sort of like how Zayn had said earlier when Liam had asked about it. It doesn’t matter how they go or when or what time it is when it happens. It’s only matters that it’s happening at all. All that matters is who and where and why. 

They’re sitting on the hood of Harry’s car when Liam spots the first signs of the sun peeking over the horizon. 

“There,” he says softly, pointing across the ocean. 

Zayn watches the sun, sees it rise, and basks in the reality of this being the last time. He scoots a little closer toward Liam and rests his head against his shoulder, gets lost in the steady rise and fall of his breathing. 

It’s not the way he’d imagined. So much of his original idea of this last day is missing. Harry isn’t there and the morning is warm so much as it is a little bit chilly. There aren't any seagulls stealing the bits of bread Harry probably would have tossed out onto the sand just before the sunrise. 

It’s not the way Zayn had planned it, but Liam is there and they’re on the hood of Harry’s car. His eyes are closed and he’s stumbling upon a flower bed and picking out a rose. He’s taking the time to catch its scent and it’s even more beautiful and fragrant than he’d imagined. There’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Zayn places a hand over Liam’s where it’s resting in his lap and a warmth in his chest when Liam laces their fingers together and somehow Zayn is sure that Liam has no plans of letting go. 

In the end, it’s nothing like the way Zayn had planned it. It isn’t better or worse, but it is calm and it’s warm and it’s painless. In the end, Zayn is holding Liam’s hand and his heart feels a little too big in his chest. In the end, Zayn keeps his promise. 

In the end, he’s happy.


End file.
